Humanization
by korinara
Summary: Tres & Esther. DISCONTINUED. Unfortunately, even the most wonderful of liaisons can fall to ruin. Beyond the disappearance of Father Nightroad and an important lapse in Tres's circuitry, Esther should probably see being away from Rome as a good thing.
1. I

Humanization

**Humanization**

**I.**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Trinity Blood. This applies for all future chapters.

O O O

Cardinal Sforza's day would have been positively blissful and perfect if she hadn't picked up the phone some three hours ago. But because Cardinal Sforza _did, _in fact, answer said phone, what had once been a very pleasant and uneventful evening had quickly been tipped on its head. From the moment she had heard the man's voice—smooth and haughty, but polite anyway—she knew that the day would proceed with anything but easy steps.

She sighed and touched her forehead gently, closing her eyes against the red glow of the setting sun. Sister Kate—or, rather, Sister Kate's _hologram_—stood in front of her near the large window, reading off of a report in her hands.

"Would you like me to repeat that, Cardinal? You look flustered."

Sforza took a deep breath through her nose, straightening up in her chair in the process. She placed her hands on the arms and smoothed her fingers over the red velvet, attempting to sort through her thoughts as Sister Kate recited a summary of the report once more.

"The man's name is Thomas Theilig." Her hologram flickered, and she and her voice were temporarily distorted before it righted itself with a soft buzzing noise. "According to the research that I, personally, have done on him, he's a very religious man and, consequently, a large donator to several churches across Europe. He's been making his way here from Sweden, slowly moving across parts of Switzerland, Norway, Holland, and now Germany." She shuffled the papers in her hand, and the only sound in the room for a moment was the almost-silent whine of the hologram machine sitting on the floor. "Oh, yes—he is, regrettably, unable to travel alone any farther than Germany, and is stranded on an island neighboring Germany's north coast. He said that he doesn't trust his health to keep him on his feet, as he's very…ah…_senior."_

"And…" Sforza made a half-contented sound in her throat before continuing. "And what was it that he wanted us to do again?"

"Escort him from Borkum, Germany, to Rome, Italy. Or, more precisely, he wants someone to take _him _to _us." _She waved the hand that held the papers noncommittally. "Honestly, I don't quite understand why he can't just travel with one or more of his bodyguards, for goodness's sake. He has enough of them."

"Did he state why he wants Father Nightroad, specifically,to take him?"

Sister Kate hummed as she shuffled the documents in her hand. "All it says is that he trusts the church more than he does his own family, because we are closer to God than they. He goes on to say that he's looked up Father Nightroad's name, and he's certain that one who has so much experience and skill as he would be quite befitted to escort 'such a generous donor' as himself."

The Cardinal chuckled in disbelief and fluffed her blond hair—a reflexive action of irritation. "I have to wonder if he understands the funds that will need to be supplied in order to transport two priests from Italy to some backwater German city."

"Uh…_two _priests, Cardinal?"

She nodded and returned her hand to the velvet of the chair arm, rubbing circles in the fabric as she spoke. "Yes. Abel Nightroad and Tres Iqus." She raised her narrowed gaze to Sister Kate's digital counterpart. "You don't really think that I'd send Father Nightroad _alone, _do you?"

Sister Kate blushed, stuttered, and then cleared her throat. "To move on...and to also answer your earlier question…I do believe that Sir Theilig understands very well the costs of such a long round-trip journey. He's offered to repay you _threefold _for the expenses, in addition to the large sum that he is donating."

Cardinal Sforza's left eyebrow quirked upward. "Is he now? Well, he certainly has enough money to just throw to the wind then. I dare say that threefold is extremely excessive."

The cleric woman shrugged her shoulders and tapped her holographic boots against the floor. "I suppose that we should merely count our blessings, if you will. It's a modern miracle that there are the wealthy in our world that are willing to give their money to worthy causes, rather than…'throwing it to the wind.'"

The Cardinal huffed. "Very well." She glanced over through the window, and then around the room. The sun had disappeared beneath the horizon, and the only light that was left was the dim, bluish remainders of dusk currently coating her furniture and herself. As for Sister Kate, her hologram sputtered and softly flashed with a faint green glow. "Send me the information, please." She pointed behind her at the machine that sent and received papers and official documents behind her. "I'm not willing to send out two priests for a _fraud."_

Sister Kate nodded. "Right away, Cardinal." Her image wavered as she reached out of Cardinal Sforza's view to press some unknown button. "I'll talk to you again soon." And with that, her 2D complement made a loud click before disappearing all together. All that was left was a small green dot that indicated the device was on.

Sforza purposely reached over and turned it off.

O O O

It was completely dark before the message reached Abel.

Esther crowded close by him, peering over his shoulder at the letter. "What is that?" she asked, switching her vision to rest on the side of his face.

He chewed the inside of his cheek. "Cardinal Sforza's summoned me to Germany, apparently." And _he,_ apparently, didn't feel like beating around the bush at that particular time. "And to take Tres with me."

She backed up and frowned. "Germany? That far?"

He sighed and tucked the folded letter in his overcoat pocket. "Tres and I are leaving at dawn tomorrow. We need to escort a donor to the Vatican City."

"Oh." Sheshranka little farther behind him. "That was…sudden."

He turned to look toward her and smiled that face-shatteringly huge smile. "I must go meet with Cardinal Sforza now, Sister." He nodded toward the end of the hallway. "Would you like to accompany me? If the cardinal had felt that this was private information, she would have indicated so."

Esther nodded. "Sure."

The two set off down the long hall, occasionally turning sharp corners and walking through various rooms. Marble statues and unlit stained glass windows passed by them as they went on their way, until finally the cardinal's wing was upon them.

Esther glanced around her. "Shouldn't Tres be here, as well?"

Abel nodded. "I expect he's already inside. The cardinal would have sent him a digital message, and he's quite punctual."

Esther sighed and folded her arms in front of her, glancing around at the statues and murals as they passed by them. She had been in the cardinal's wing before—when she had been accepted into the church in those first grueling five months—but that didn't stop it from unnerving her.

She honestly disliked this particular wing. Everything was far too cold; from the perfect marble floor to the masterfully designed walls, it was all much too extravagant for her tastes. Back in Hungary, the church she had stayed at was relatively small in comparison to _this _church. She was humbled by the magnificent culture, tradition, and artwork engrained into every piece of lumber and plaster within its confines.

Abel was a little bit farther ahead of her, she realized, and she hurried to fall back in step with him. "Father?"

He turned his head halfway to her. "Hmm?"

She fiddled with the cuff of her coat. "Where in Germany, do you suppose?"

He smiled and turned back to the hall ahead of them. "Borkum."

She fidgeted again. "Oh." Of course, she would miss Father Abel dearly. And, if the moment called for some overemotional outburst, she would probably miss Father Tres as well.

And because she was Sister Esther, and therefore a member of the Vatican, and _therefore _a very caring and nurturing and sometimes even—but only when it happened to slip out unnoticed—rather fussy about the important people in her life, she would fret over their absence. If she couldn't be there when Abel was hurt or when Tres was accidentally knocked on the head and shut down, it would eat at her. She would lie in her bed at night in a paranoid cold sweat, tossing and turning in the sheets.

She would_ worry _about the two priests relentlessly until she at least heard word from them.

She was helpful, after all. She knew the techniques of the common nurse, and she could apply antiseptic and bandages to a wound. If Abel and Tres ever required her help, she could give it to them! And she would give it to them _well!_

She determinedly cleared her throat and puffed out her chest, standing to her full height. "Abel."

Abel blinked and stopped completely in shock, this time turning around all the way. "S…Sister Esther?" He smiled—sort of embarrassedly—and rubbed the back of his neck. "Is there anything wrong? You don't have to accompany me if you don't wish."

Just like that, every bit of composure and presence Esther contained drained away and pooled at her feet. Her shoulders drooped, and she tapped the tips of her fingers together. "Uh…well…that is...I have something to ask you."

He blinked again and pushed his glasses up over the bridge of his nose. "You didn't call me 'Father.' I'm guessing this is serious?"

She swallowed around the lump in her throat. "Yes. Yes, it is. I…"

He shifted his weight.

"If…if you need anything, you know, you can always…come to me!"

He was silent for a moment before laughing softly and patting her head, his large gloved hand pushing down her red hair. "Of course I know that. You're my friend, aren't you?"

She couldn't contain the blush.

He pulled away and began to walk, but she stopped him again.

"But that's not what I meant." She kept her feet planted firmly on the marble floor, staring through the haze of awkwardness at his back and the silver hair that fell over it.

"Then…" he began, turning around slower this time, his visage displaying the most elegant of relaxed poise. "What _do _you mean?"

"I mean I can _help _you, Father Nightroad," she insisted, dancing around a thousand other words that were urging her to continue. "I—I know first aid, and I can give CPR if needed," and at this she blushed, because what kind of mental images were those, anyway? "I can really, honestly assist you with any of those things."

Father Nightroad kept his eyes fixed firmly upon hers for what seemed like an infinite amount of time, before he finally smiled good-naturedly and nodded with a slight tilt to his head. "I know of your talents, Esther." He smiled a little wider. "Should I ask Cardinal Sforza if you could accompany us?"

It was a nice thought, Esther figured, but she knew far better than to expect something like that to happen. So she shook her head sadly and began to walk again, the heels of her boots tapping solemnly against the floor. "No, no, you shouldn't bother her with such thoughts." She put a thoughtful hand to her chin. "Though it _would _be nice, I suppose. I'd really like to travel with you and Tres again!"

Abel turned down a specific corridor, and Esther followed obediently. "That would be nice," he admitted, and Esther could detect a hint of amusement in his tone. "After all, staring at nothing but _Tres _all day long does wear on one's eyes." He laughed after this, and Esther frowned a little.

"He's not all that…unhandsome," she clarified.

"No, you're right," Abel agreed, scratching the back of his head. "It's just that he's an android, and his facial expression never changes."

"So…opposed to some sort of statue for company—who never complains or needs looking-after—you'd rather have a clingy human being?"

Abel faltered, stuttered, and then laughed out loud at this. "I think you're getting something wrong about Father Tres. He is _far _from a statue. He always criticizes my performance, he insists that everything I'm doing is 'incorrect by so-and-so milliseconds,' and, even worse, when he gets thrown on top of me, he just about breaks my ribs!"

Esther watched a white gargoyle as they passed by it; it sat still and quiet, with the features of its mug twisted into a feral, protective snarl. Tres was nothing like a statue—Tres was more human than robot. "I wonder…if Father Tres takes showers."

This definitely caught Father Nightroad off guard, because his steps hitched, and he almost tripped over his own foot. "S…Sister Esther! That is…a very inappropriate thought process!"

A dark blush spread across the expanse of Esther's cheeks, and she threw her hands up defensively. "That's not what I was thinking about! I mean, I was just wondering, and I don't think Tres even has anything…like…that…anyway."

Abel coughed into his hand and stared straight ahead, toward the large double doors to the cardinal's office. "Well…I assume that he _would. _He…he _has _been modeled directly after the human male anatomy."

Esther didn't say anything for a moment, and when they finally reached the double doors, she grunted gently in half-satisfaction. "I guess that means he _does _take showers."

O O O

There wasn't a person in the room—except for maybe Sister Kate, because _she _had suggested it, after all—who could quite concretely explain why Cardinal Sforza had actually agreed that sending Esther Blanchett along on the journey was a good idea.

It had all started so flawlessly, really: she and Abel had stridden effortlessly into the room, both of them working their very hardest not to chance a look at Father Tres. The whole _aura _of the room hadn't affected either of them in the least, because Esther was trying her best—which, admittedly, wasn't very hard—to _not _imagine Tres naked, and Abel was trying _his _best to not imagine _Esther _naked. And how his train of thoughts had switched from Tres in the shower to Esther traipsing about in nothing but her own skin, he couldn't be too sure.

So, of course, neither of them really paid any attention when Sister Kate and Cardinal Sforza began arguing over some trivial matter. And if they didn't notice that little discrepancy, then they _surely _didn't notice when Tres stepped in and offered for Esther to accompany Abel and him, because she would be highly beneficial. And _because _they didn't notice this awkward turn of events, Father Abel certainly did not quip in his mindless piece, which was how he thought that was a splendid idea.

And that was how it came to be, in all actuality. Abel, Esther, and Tres, off again on another threesome and a backwards-ass mission that would undoubtedly lead the three of them—or maybe two, because Tres didn't care much for things such as crushes or sexual tension—into either insanity or premature senility. Whichever came first, really.

"Thomas Theilig? It sounds disgustingly…_average."_

"Father Abel, that's not very nice."

"Neither is wondering whether Tres takes showers or not, but then again, we all have our little flaws."

Tres decided that, undoubtedly, he would rather _not _be stuck inside a small aircraft with Father Abel Nightroad and Sister Esther Blanchett. The two were infatuated with something, and when humans became infatuated, uncanny things were oft to happen.

Esther snatched a magazine out of Abel's hand. "You've been reading this for far too long!" She tried, unsuccessfully, to conceal the darkening of her cheeks with the cover of it.

_Frivolous, _Tres amended. _Frivolous things happen that potentially hinder the success of our mission._

A few minutes later, when their personal compartment fell eerily silent, Abel crossed and uncrossed his legs, sighed, and opted to look out the window at the passing clouds solemnly. "I don't understand why we need to take a_public _transport," he muttered. "The church could have very well provided us with afaster transfer."

Tres turned to Abel, and he felt something click unconsciously in his head as he faced his attentions toward the man. "We are to be inconspicuous," he replied flatly. "We do not want to intimidate the donor."

Abel huffed, and then pouted. "Who asked you?" he mumbled, only half under his breath.

"You did, Father Nightroad."

Esther giggled behind the magazine that she had virtually absorbed herself in. "Father Tres knows his way around you, Father Abel."

Said human Father straightened himself and folded his arms across his lap. "Yes. _Too _well, I'm afraid."

The airplane made a sudden jerk, and the magazine fell out of Esther's hands. She stared at it for a second before bending to pick it up, but Abel quickly snatched it off the floor.

Esther frowned. "Give it back."

Abel grinned charmingly. "You've been reading this for far too long." And with that, he began to read contentedly.

Esther harrumphed and turned to face away from Abel, instead staring through one of the compartment windows at the empty aisle.

Tres closed his eyes slowly. _Ridiculously frivolous, _he reminded himself. _But the dynamic seems harmless enough._

About five seconds later, Esther made a mad grab for the magazine.


	2. II

Humanization

**Humanization**

**II.**

O O O

Clouds and other aircrafts passed leisurely by, creating small white and grey blurs as their plane traveled on its merry little way to the destination of choice: Borkum, Germany.

"So, what's it like?" Esther asked pleasantly, finally having given up on stealing the magazine back from Abel.

Abel merely grunted. "I've never been there before, so I'm not sure. But I assume that since it's located on an island, it will be rather cold." He peered at her over the top of the magazine for a moment. "And probably a tad _fishy, _as well."

Esther scrunched her nose in a most unpleasant way and folded her arms. "So it's a fishing town?"

Tres answered before Abel could even blink. "That is correct. However, as the season is currently winter, there will be no tourists."

"Beautiful beaches," Abel muttered, echoing the unformed thoughts of Tres. "Beautiful German girls."

Esther huffed, crossing her legs beneath her dress as she stared in a miffed manner at Abel. "Didn't you take a vow of chastity or something?"

Abel gaped at her. "A vow of—oh!" He laughed uproariously after this, dropping the magazine in favor of clutching his stomach. "Vow of chastity? You jest, Sister Esther!"

Esther steamed.

Tres sighed.

The aircraft pilot came on the loudspeaker, his voice echoing through the small walls of their compartment. "Wir nähern jetzt uns dem Borkum Flughafen. Befestigen Sie bitte alle Sicherheitsgurt und bereiten Sie sich für Landung vor. " A distinct German accent still resonated in his tone, even as he repeated the information in English: "We are now approaching the Borkum Airport. Please fasten all seatbelts and prepare for landing."

Tres, Abel, and Esther all did so, forgetting for a moment about their previous struggle over the magazine and their almost-heated conversation.

A few minutes later, the craft began descending, though the three occupants of the cabin barely felt it. It was far from a luxury airliner, but it was still rather sufficient. There was hardly any turbulence at all, and for this, Abel and Esther were glad _especially _Esther, as she had had quite a few problems involving airplanes before.

"Have we landed?" Esther asked, pulling the curtain back a little bit to stare out the small, circular window.

"Positive," Tres replied, keeping still and stone-faced. "We have arrived at the Borkum Airport in Borkum, Germany. I will inform the cardinal immediately."

Esther watched, slightly fascinated, as his eyes flashed for a brief moment, dilating and then returning to normal size. It was all quite surreal, really, to be prancing about Germany with two priests—one widely renowned and the other a battle android. She was still trying to come to terms with it herself.

When Father Tres finished with his little internal message-sending operation he turned his gaze—stiff, but still holding a bit of the spark that gave him a personality—to _Esther. _And for once since the first time he'd saved her from that horrid forest "fairy," vibrant blue eyes met cold brown.

Abel coughed from somewhere in the background.

Esther blinked to look up at the man. "Yes?"

He was standing up, placing the magazine back in its allotted rack, just alongside the bench he'd been sitting on. "If you don't mind, we really should be leaving." He pointed to her lap. "And it seems as though you're still wearing restraints."

"Oh!" She rushed to unbuckle herself and then promptly stood up, smoothing out the wrinkles in her skirt and trying the shake off the slight numbness in her legs from sitting so long. "Shall we go?"

They departed the airport rather easily, though Tres had to show certificate of authentication of his being a registered android, and both Tres _and _Abel had to show the proper documents—courtesy of the Vatican—for their firearms. Esther…well, Esther didn't really have anything she needed to verify with the airport security. So she wandered into the gift shop, glowing at the various multitudes of stuffed animals and souvenirs.

Abel and Tres arrived to fetch her some fifteen minutes later, both tucking their respective "Vatican Official" credentials into their pockets. Should anybody question them, they would merely pull out these papers and would be free to go.

Abel handed Esther hers. It was rather small, she pondered, as it could easily fit into her palm. "Here," Abel said, smiling gently and pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Keep this on you at all times."

"Should you lose it," Tres added, "you will need to re-register—a process that will take approximately three weeks. This will cost us valuable time."

"Yes, well," Esther said, frowning a bit at Tres' remark. Did he _expect _her to lose it or something? "I have a little more business to finish here."

Abel raised a questioning eyebrow. "Here…as in this gift shop?"

Esther nodded, pulling a small plush seal keychain from the rack behind her. "See? Isn't it adorable?" She cuddled it, rubbing the soft material against her cheek. "I love it!"

Abel sighed, but smiled nonetheless. "Alright."

The young, cleric woman smiled brightly. "I'm paying with my _own _money, of course." She bounded off, waving at them over her shoulder. "I'll be back in a minute!"

Once at the counter, though, she found that she was in for a little more trouble than first anticipated. "Hello!" she said, setting the item on the counter.

"Hallo," the clerk replied, returning Esther's smile in kind. She rung up the item and then bagged it. "Es kostet 3.75 dinars, bitte."

Esther's smile melted. "I'm sorry…what was that?"

The clerk blinked a few times. "3.75 dinar, bitte." She turned the screen of the computer toward Esther. "Der Computer sagt 3.75 dinar. Sie müssen mich zahlen."

The only things she had caught were "3.75 dinar" and "computer." She pulled her wallet from her pocket. "3.75, correct?" she asked, nervously pulling out the money.

The clerk turned the computer screen away again. "Ja." She took the money offered and handed Esther the bag. "Danke und haben Sie einen netten Aufenthalt in Borkum!"

Esther swallowed a little bit and made her leave, reappearing at Tres and Abel's side.

Abel, upon noticing her, grinned charmingly. "Well?"

"The clerk…she speaks German," Esther said, pulling out her prize and attaching it to her belt loop. "I barely understood a word she said."

Abel laughed good-naturedly. "Well, yes. We _are _in Germany, after all."

Esther gave him a look that said she wasn't amused.

"Anyway," he said, and the three of them started out of the gift shop and toward the baggage claim, "Tres is equipped with an automatic language translator. That's one of the main reasons he's come along, after all."

Esther blinked at the android's back, walking just ahead of them. "Really?"

Abel nodded. "Yes. Watch him speak with the attendant up here."

And sure enough, Tres approached an attendant, showing him the Vatican Official papers. Esther strained to hear what she could.

"Wir sind von der Vatican Kirche. Unser Gepäck ist zu Ihnen besonders versendet worden und es wichtiges Material enthält. Zeigen Sie uns bitte in der Richtung der speziellen Abteilung."

Esther furrowed her brow. "All I caught was 'Vatican.'" She turned to Abel. "What did he say?"

"I don't know much German," Abel confessed, smiling in a lopsided way, "but I believe he asked where our luggage was."

"Positive, Father Nightroad."

Abel jumped at the sudden proximity of the battle android. "Tres!" He laughed anxiously. "Did you find out where we should claim our things?"

He nodded, turning on his heel and leading them down a long corridor. "The attendant showed me. Follow me."

And so they did.

O O O

A couple hours and frustrated moments later, they were once again traveling, and Esther was _not _happy.

Tres took due note of this.

"This is ridiculous," she muttered under her breath, staring out the car window gloomily. "Weren't we given unlimited funds?"

Abel laughed from his spot in the front seat, just beside the driver. "Oh, if only. I tried to rent us a larger car, really, I did, Sister Esther. But we're very strapped when it comes to the finance department."

"Positive," Tres piped, moving his head slightly to the left so that he could see the side of Esther's curiously red face. "The seating arrangement is not safe; however, given the circumstances, the chances of your death in the case of a car accident are five to fifty."

"Oh, well that's just wonderful news," Esther said, crossing her arms. "And what, pray tell, Father _Tres, _are the circumstances?"

He blinked once. It was strange that Sister Esther could not figure out something so simple for herself. "The circumstances are that you are currently sitting on my lap, Sister Esther."

Esther choked on nothing and Abel forced back a giggle.

"And I will be able to keep you safe," he continued, "far better than a seatbelt could."

"Why _you?" _Esther screeched, causing the driver to swerve a little bit. "Why couldn't I… _not _sit on your lap?"

"The middle console and the rest of the backseat are occupied by our luggage," Tres replied, leaning away from Sister Esther as she turned an even darker shade of scarlet. "Any other position would jeopardize your safety, Sister Esther."

She opened her mouth to retort, but Tres kept talking.

"For example," he said, realizing that he was prattling on needlessly but figuring it would be less distracting to the driver, "if you were to sit on the luggage, you would be thrown about the car. If you were to sit on Father Nightroad's lap, he would not be able to sufficiently keep you safe."

Esther looked like she was about to explode.

"If Father Nightroad was to sit on _your _lap," and at this Abel squawked an indignant remark, "you would both be put in danger."

"I think I understand, Father Tres," Esther mumbled. "Thank you."

"If I were to sit on your lap," he went on, wondering for a second what she would do if that situation were to ever occur, "I would crush your pelvic bone. As it stands, this arrangement is by far the most dependable."

"Meine Herren, sind wir angekommen.," the driver said, rolling the car to a stop and looking at Abel.

Abel smiled. "Thank you. We'll only be a second, so could you keep the engine running?"

The driver nodded, and each of them exited the vehicle slowly.

Esther quickly straightened out her dress and combed back her hair, giving the appearance that she _wasn't _suffering from jet lag and extreme travel-related exhaustion. She reached over to Abel to fix his wrinkled clothes.

Abel grimaced. "I see you're feeling very…motherly."

Esther pouted. "It's not that, it's just that we need to impress this man." She finished with Abel and turned to Tres, who was watching her intently. "And _you," _she said, reaching up to flatten down his hair, "are hopeless."

"What is _this?" _Abel suddenly asked, stepping in front of a demolished building. He looked it up and down, hands on his hips.

Esther frowned. "Isn't this where we're supposed to meet the donor?"

"Die Stadt," the driver called out of the window as he watched the three of them marvel at their supposed meeting place, "riß dieses Gebäude herunter, weil sie mit Ratten geplagt wurde."

Abel, frustrated beyond belief, turned to Tres expectantly. "I couldn't understand that. What'd he say?"

"The city tore down the building because of a rat infestation," Tres said, furrowing his brow as he surveyed the damage. "Sister Esther, are you sure that this is the exact place?"

Esther bit her lip and took out the official note from her wallet. She perused it quickly before nodding. "Yes, it says so exactly. Between the barbershop and the clothing store." She handed the paper to Tres. "And the address is there, as well as the addresses for the shops."

Tres read it over, frowning deeper after each sentence. "Perhaps," he started, tucking the letter away, "we should search the surrounding shops."

Abel sighed dramatically and placed a large hand to his temples. "No, no, that won't do."

"Then what do you propose we _do _do?" Esther asked, throwing up her hands in exasperation. "It looks like we're just about stuck"

"We drive back to the outer city," Abel said, brushing past Esther to open the passenger side of the car door, "and we contact Cardinal Sforza immediately."

"I—" Tres started, but Abel was having none of this.

"And we rent a hotel," he went on, climbing in and shutting the door, "and we spend the night here in Borkum before carrying out whatever it is that the cardinaltells us to do next."

Esther and Tres glanced at each other for a moment before piling back in.

"Fahren Sie uns zu einem Hotel nahe dem Flughafen," Tres said, talking around Esther's body.

The driver nodded. "Ja."

The car started back down the road, winding through miles of countryside and bouncing the passengers back and forth.

"Why didn't we just get a hotel near _there?" _Esther asked after a while, and she grunted when a particularly hard bump made Tres hold her around the waist instinctively.

"Because if he's not there, then he's not there," Abel said, sounding sulky and annoyed.

Esther frowned and pulled away slightly, leaning into Tres's chest. He had to push his chin over her shoulder to see anything.

"He's being kind of a jerk," she whispered to Tres, glaring daggers at the back of Abel's head.

Tres nodded. "Positive."

"Entschuldigen Sie mich," the driver suddenly said, and his voice was high and panicky. "Aber es gibt einen Mann in der Straße!"

"What?" Abel leaned forward to see exactly what the driver talked about: a man in the road. "What is he _doing? _He's not moving even though he sees us coming!"

"He isn't wearing the native dress." Something clicked loudly in Tres's head, and he tried to reach over and grab the driver. "Stop!"

But it was too late, because they hit the man full-force. The car veered off the road, tires screaming and tilting dangerously to the side.

Tres pulled Esther's head into the crook of his arm, protecting the most vital part of her body as the car swerved into a ditch, rolling several times before it came to rest at the very bottom.

When all was said and done and the dust had finally cleared, Tres lifted his head. Their luggage was thrown out the shattered back window and it now littered the ground around the car. The front airbags had deployed, and Abel was slowly picking himself up amongst the shards of glass.

He looked down at Esther. "Damage report, Sister Esther?" he asked as she pulled herself from him.

Her arms were bruised and scratched and a long trail of blood curled from the top left of her forehead to her chin, but otherwise she looked fine. "I'm okay," she said, grimacing. "What about Abel and the driver?" She turned around to get a look, but Tres warned her not to.

He used his elbow to smash out the remaining pieces of glass from the back window. "The doors are unusable," he said, helping her up. "You must exit through the back, please."

Once Esther was safely out of the vehicle, Tres turned to Abel. "Damage report, Father Nightroad?"

"Fine," Abel moaned, rubbing his left arm. He glanced at the driver. "But I can't say the same for our chauffer..."

"The chauffer is unimportant," Tres said, also exiting through the window. "Please follow me."

A scream broke through the soft hissing of the totaled engine, and Tres immediately snapped his attention to it.

Esther was wrestling herself—or attempting to, anyway—away from several unfamiliar men, all wearing the same uniforms as the man who had stood in the road, who were grabbing at her and trying to drag her away.

Tres pulled out his gun. "Battle mode initiating," he said, walking at a brisk pace toward the attackers. "Release Sister Esther Blanchett at once!"

"Där han er!" one of the men cried, pushing Esther aside in favor of stalking toward where Abel was still crawling out of the car.

"Father Nightroad!" Tres shouted, aiming the gun at the advancing man.

Abel ducked out of the way of the man's weapon, which was something similar to a bayonet, only with a more advanced gun attached.

"Arrenderade inte honom rymning!" another man called, and he dove for Esther, who was trying to get to a gun that had been thrown from their luggage.

_Swedish, _Tres noted as he shot the man in the arm, sending him reeling away from his female partner. _They're speaking Swedish, not German._

About five more men emerged from what seemed to be the surrounding wood, all holding identical weapons. A few ran immediately to Abel, while still others grabbed Esther by the hair and proceeded to drag her off.

Tres made the quick decision to be the chivalrous one. He saved Esther first.

However, this was probably his downfall, for his mind stuttered and buzzed when the butt end of a gun jabbed into the back of his head.

"Father Tres!" Esther yelled, watching as he stumbled into a nearby tree.

"Esther, run!" Abel shouted as several men assailed him from all directions. "They're after—" he kicked what looked like an area scanner out of another man's hand, "—me!"

A dense thump alerted Esther that Tres had fallen, and she glanced quickly between the two priests, biting her lip.

A wild look came over Abel's features. "Take Tres and _go!"_

One of the men pulled what looked to be a syringe from his pocket. He stabbed it into Abel's neck swiftly, and Abel winced before slowly falling limp.

By the time they turned around to capture Esther and the android, the area was empty save for the crashed automobile and the dead German native at the wheel.

O O O

Esther panted as she dragged Tres underneath the gnarled roots of a tree. It created a cage-like burrow, but she didn't care, because she was tired of hauling a 400-something-pound android around, and because her mind was far too frazzled to function like a normal brain would.

Tres, who had been helping her to carry him along as best as possible, collapsed when she told him to crawl into the little den.

"Father Tres," she whined, "I can't carry you. You're too heavy; you have to help me get you in here."

With effort, Tres managed to pick himself up long enough to get inside the burrow.

Once inside, Esther fell to the ground alongside him, taking wracking, labored breaths and holding Tres' head against her chest. And she, herself, couldn't really tell she was trying to comfort _him _or _herself._

"We're okay," she said between breaths, patting him like she would a child. "We're okay—you're okay."

"Sister Esther," Tres mumbled.

She took her hands from his head. "Yes?"

"Damage report," he said, and Esther could hear the breaking in his voice. It was filled with static, with consonants and vowels occasionally cutting out.

"Fine," she said, pushing herself to sit up. "You?"

"I have sustained major internal injuries and require the aid of an experienced android mechanic immediately."

Esther slumped and buried her face in her palms. "Great."

"However," Tres continued, still lying in the dirt, eyes closed, "I can make most repairs myself, and finding and retrieving Father Abel Nightroad is of more importance than myself at this time."

"I—I agree," Esther said, watching him breathe steadily. "But shouldn't we go back to Rome and tell the cardinal? Or—or at least ask for some back up? I think we're in way over our heads if they've captured Father Abel so easily."

"For now, rest," Tres commanded.

Esther bit her lip. "Rest? _Here?"_

"Yes," Tres said, still lying unmoving from his place on the ground. "Without a doubt, there are still those men searching for us. I have taken our current position into mind, however, and I believe that there is a…a good chance that we will remain safe and hidden from their view."

Esther frowned, but she lay down beside him anyway, resting her head on her arm. If Tres couldn't even make _probabilities _properly, then he definitely needed a short respite, in the least.

And so she tried to fall asleep, she really did, but things kept nagging at the back of her head. "Father Tres?"

"Yes, Sister Esther?"

"Where will we go after this?"

He paused for a long moment. "We will…" he began, probably unsure of their next course of action, himself. "We will travel to the nearest town and take refuge in a chapel. I will attempt to reboot my internal state so that I can successfully contact Cardinal Sforza and the Vatican."

She lifted her head up a little to look at him, and was surprised to see that he had opened his eyes. He was stared, with a sort of dazed expression, at his hand. "Are you…sure you're okay, Father Tres? You've been put through a lot, and—"

"I will be performing at standard in a short time," he replied, closing his eyes once more. "Please rest, Sister Esther, as we will be heading out first thing tomorrow, and traveling so quickly as we must will put a strain on your body."

She nodded and situated herself into a more comfortable position. Concerning that they were sleeping in the dirt, though, there weren't many ways she could lay to make it any less hard and unpleasant.

After a while, she fell into an uneasy sleep, listening to the deep sounds of Tres' breathing.


	3. III

Humanization

**Humanization**

**III.**

O O O

"Father Tres."

Tres, for the first time in his short android life, couldn't really be sure if he actually wanted to respond.

"Father _Tres."_

And again.

"Father Tres Iqus!"

Once more…

"_Tres!"_

Well, he couldn't very well ignore _that. _He opened his eyes rather slowly, scanning the immediate area. It was dark, that much he could tell, and there was dirt. Plus there was something or someone fiddling with the collar of his coat.

"Sister Esther?"

"So glad you're awake," he heard her reply in a groan.

"Negative," he immediately stated, multitasking expertly as he searched through his memory banks for a recollection of the night's events. "I do not sleep. I am—"

"Yes, yes, a machine, and I can assure you, Father Tres, nobody knows this fact quite better than I, myself, do at this moment."

An unnaturally loud whirring filled his ears for a moment, before he realized that it was coming from _him _as he tried to process Esther's speech. He was more damaged than he'd initially thought. "What—"

"Damn it, _get off _already!"

He looked to the only place that he hadn't looked before: up and back. And there Esther sat, a frown plastered on her face as she stared at him intensely. When she noticed his gaze, she smiled dangerously. "May I remind you that you weigh approximately 400 pounds?" she said sweetly, "and that close to _half _of those 400 pounds consists of your _head, _which is currently crushing my _lap?" _

"Negative, Sister Esther. My head does not weigh approximately—" He moved, a little bit slower than he was used to, and was momentarily thrown off when a wave of vertigo caused everything around him to spin on its axis.

Esther's tone immediately took on a twinge of concern. "Oh, dear…are you alright?"

He made a noise that might have been a grunt. "Positive."

"Oh, right," she said, scooting away from him. "So what do we do now?"

"We leave. We travel." He smoothed some hair out of his face—a reflexive move that Esther had never really seen him do before. "And we find Father Nightroad."

O O O

It hadn't taken them long to find a small town, just bordering the outskirts of the forest and on the other side of the road they had crashed on.

Unfortunately, on the way out, they had to pass by the dead German chauffer. His body had been mangled than anything Esther could ever have imagined in the car accident, and she covered her mouth with the cuff of her cloak. Tears almost sprang.

"Sister Esther?" Tres had asked, stopping and waiting for her to continue on.

"Tres, what…what _happened?"_

He'd nodded toward the demolished car, frowning. "The German authorities should be here shortly," he'd said, walking over to her and outstretching a hand. "We must move quickly."

And so they'd carried on, until finally finding what they had been looking for: a small town with a church.

"Do you still have your credentials and everything?" Esther asked as they approached the chapel. It was massively dwarfed by the size of the church back in Rome, but that didn't matter. Perhaps they could contact the Vatican through here, anyway?

"Negative," Tres replied, stepping closer to Esther as the ascended the stone church steps, their footfalls echoing. "However, the church will not require my android credentials, as they are currently unaware of my status."

Esther cast him a sidelong glance, smoothing out a few wrinkles in her dress in vain. "Are you…are you suggesting we _lie, _Father Tres?"

He paused. Then: "Positive, Sister Esther."

And so in they marched, and Esther could swear that Tres had puffed out his chest, jaw set, lips into a thin line, eyes a little more hard and calculating than usual.

A nun met them before they could ask for the main office, all smiles and brightness and wearing a large golden cross around her thin neck. "Good morning," she said sweetly, and her smile threatened to crack her face. "What can I help you with?"

Or…at least…that's what Esther _thought _she said. It…it _looked _like that was what said.

Tres replied in some strange gibberish, and Esther looked on cautiously.

The two carried on a brief conversation, in which Tres repeatedly motioned to himself, then to Esther, then to his hand.

Something akin to realization dawned over the nun's face, and she nodded, motioning for the two of them to follow.

Tres hung back with Esther, and when he took her hand in his, Esther jumped straight out of her skin. "T—Tres?"

He didn't even glance at her. "Please take note our new status, Sister Esther" he said, slowly, enunciating each syllable carefully. "You are my foreign wife of three years. We were attacked by rogue thieves, wherein they stole all of our belongings, including our wedding bands."

"You…you have to be joking." She stared at the side of his face. Please, good Lord, say he was joking. "Tres—"

"I lack the emotional capacity required to 'joke,'" he said, and Esther almost made a crack about him not lacking the emotional capacity to sound like a demeaning prick, apparently. But she held back for the sake of their…well…elaborately crafted _lie._

"How…" she began, staring at her hands. "How did you even make this _up? _Last time I checked, you were _not _this creative!"

"Father Nightroad had demonstrated this plan to me when we had first come in contact with you, Sister Esther. It had been his 'Plan B,' in the case that his faulty 'Plan A' should fail. Which it did."

She glared at him. "So you've done this before, then." She scoffed and waved a hand. "I knew it. You really _do _lack any creativity whatsoever."

"As a precautionary addendum," he continued after a moment, "you are also three months pregnant with my child."

"_Tres!" _she shrieked, and she was so loud in doing so that he _actually _managed to look at her from the corner of his eyes and people in the church _actually _turned their heads toward them.

She pulled her hand out of his, quite abruptly. "That's going too far!"

He took her hand back. Forcefully. Sternly. _Painfully._

She winced.

"This," he said, a look of concentration in those robotic eyes, "is being efficient in our mission to retrieve Father Nightroad."

"But—"

"This," he said, and this time he _did _turn his head toward her, giving her a heavy look that slid up and down the length of her body. Esther fought back the urge to cover herself with her hands and arms. Did he have X-ray vision or something?

She dearly hoped not.

"This is necessary," he said coolly, and just in time, for they entered the office.

Esther didn't really have anything to do in the fifteen minutes or so that passed. She fiddled with her left sleeve, fiddled with her right sleeve, fiddled with _Tres's _right sleeve, looked around the rooms at all the paintings—not of excellent quality, but pretty, nonetheless—and finally settled for staring at Tres impatiently.

It was as if he didn't even notice her.

She tried different face. At one point she even stuck out her tongue.

The nun glanced at her, and she immediately stopped.

Enough acting like a two-year-old today, Esther. You're a big girl now. As of now, you're married to Tres Iqus. She tried to convince herself that this didn't bother her in the slightest.

_But he's an android, _some nagging thing in the back of her mind whined.

Yes, well, he _looks _human.

And you're also apparently three months pregnant with Tres Iqus' child.

_But he's an _android, _you idiot. Androids lack the bits and pieces required to procreate._

That…was a little harder to make up an excuse for.

How did pregnant women act, anyway?

She looked down at her belly in wonderment. She certainly didn't _look _pregnant. Or so she hoped.

One hand came up to pat it.

It growled.

She winced when the nun glanced at her again.

She patted it again, thankful when no groaning resounded. Then she rubbed it, then she stroked it, then she tried to imagine a little…android baby…thing…in there.

_Babies don't grow in the stomach, _the voice complained. _Babies grow in the _womb.

Humph. They grow in the stomach if she said they do, and she promptly told the voice to go—

"Frau Iqus?" said a voice.

Iqus really was a pretty last name. It was elegant in a jagged, hard-edged way. She supposed it suited Tres.

"Frau Iqus?" the voice said again.

Tres grabbed her hand. "Esther."

Esther blinked and looked up. Oh. They meant _her. _Well, it seemed she'd inherited that pretty last name. Even though it didn't very well suit her. She'd always like Nightroad—

The woman smiled and held out a hand.

Esther took it with the hand that wasn't being held by her robot partner.

She shook it, said some other meaningless gibberish to which Esther could only smile and occasionally laugh and nod at, and then she released them. Tres was pulling the both of them out of the room before Esther could recover from the confusion of the situation.

Once they were a good distance away from that room, Esther pulled her hand from Tres' again and straightened out her cloak. "Okay. Now can you please explain to me _exactly _what's going on?"

He didn't try to take her hand back this time. "I have already explained to you the details, Sister Esther Blanchett."

"Oh, knock off the formalities, my darling _husband," _she hissed, eyes narrowed, hands on her hips as she walked.

"Sister Esther, please refrain from drawing attention to us," he said calmly.

"Well!" She threw up those hands in exasperation. "Excuse me if I'm a bit rattled that I've somehow managed to get married and pregnant in less than an hour, but it's a bit much for me to chew, _Father Tres Iqus."_

He led her inside another room. It was empty except for a single bedroll on the ground.

Esther immediately claimed it. She was tired, hungry, needed a shower, and most of all, worried over Abel.

And now she was stuck with _Tres? _She never thought he was so bad, but when he was the only company she had…

He sat down in front of her and started to work on probing around in the back of his head. _Literally. _He took off the back of his head and starting fumbling around in there.

Esther turned away. "Okay, this isn't going to work."

"What is not going to work, Sister Esther?"

"Could you…_not _do that?"

"It is essential that I attempt to repair myself immediately, Sister Esther."

"Directly in front of me?"

He blinked, and then got up and moved across the room.

He began to speak, and Esther felt like a bit of a jerk. Oh. He was just going to strike conversation with her. _That _was why he sat so close.

"We have lost our credentials," he said—shouted, almost, because he was far away, "and thus I was forced to use Father Nightroad's faux situation for us to inhabit. The resident nun did not believe me when I told her of the actual circumstances, and so I was forced to use 'Plan B.'"

"And thus?" Esther half-mocked.

"And thus you would sleep outside."

"Touché."

"I apologize for any anxiety this may have caused you," he continued, so mechanical, so blunt, "however, it is best that you keep up the appearance of Mrs. Iqus until otherwise instructed, Sister Esther."

"_Pregnant, _Tres? Why pregnant? Just answer me that."

"I am not permitted to take r—r—r—residence here overnight," he stuttered, and Esther raised an eyebrow.

"Did you…what was that?"

"My speech unit was momentarily afflicted when I attempted to repair my message banks," he said, blinking it off. "To continue, males are not permitted to stay the night in this particular church. Females and children, however, are."

She stared down at the toes of her boots. "I see." So he would have to stay outside?

"As for answering your pregnancy question…"

Esther almost blushed. _Almost. _Because he sounded like he actually _had _impregnated her, which means that he would have slept with her, which means—

"…it was a cautionary measure that I took. The nun would not have allowed me to take you to your room, and I would not have been able to explain the situation to y—y—y—y—y—"

And then he stopped talking altogether. He slumped forward slightly, chin against his chest, hands resting in the circuitry of the back of his head.

A lance of panic shot through Esther. "Tres?"

He made no movement.

She crawled toward him quickly, hands immediately going to his cheeks, lifting up that heavy head of his until she saw closed eyes and his mouth half open. "Tres!"

He didn't answer, so she released his head in order to shake him by the shoulders roughly. His hands fell to rest against the floor. "Tres! Tres! Oh, no, Tres, don't die—er—shut down on me!"

He made a disturbing, jerky movement with his neck and shoulders, and then his eyes snapped open and his hands gripped Esther's arms in a vice grip that actually hurt.

She winced. Second time. "Tres!" She hadn't been aware that she was on the verge of tears, but apparently _he_ was aware of it, because his eyes locked with hers.

And then a pure blue starting overtaking his eyes, engulfing his pupils, flooding the sclera, and they went wide, eyelashes fluttering. "System error," he said, in a voice that wasn't Tres in any respect at all.

His hands fell away again.

"System error," that not-Tres voice repeated.

Esther started panicking. "Oh, no. No, Tres! I don't—I don't know how to fix you!"

"System error."

She tried to remember everything she could. She'd seen a sister fiddling with a computer once a long, long time ago. She'd…restarted it? Yes, that was what she did.

"Tres…oh, Tres, I—"

"System error."

"Stop that!" Biting her lip, she maneuvered her way around him, peering into the back of his head.

Glowing wires, dozens and dozens of chips and metal things and little lights and even something _whirring _met her curious stare, and her heart got caught in her throat. It was almost grotesque.

"System error."

"Yes, yes, I _get _it!" she yelled, searching something out—_anything._

And there it was. Something was…unscrewed? She reached in, drew out when he repeated that awful phrase, grimaced, and then reached in again.

She put the male end of the wire into the female end, proceeded to inwardly giggle madly at the innuendo, and screwed the base.

When she finished, she stared at the back of Tres' left ear happily. "Well?"

"System error."

"Stupid robot." So she dove right back in, but nothing seemed amiss save for a cracked box. There was nothing she could do about that, though, so she located what she assumed—hoped—was his power switch and switched it off.

"Sys—" He stopped. Slumped again. Was no more.

She chanced a look at his eyes.

Empty. Dark. The pupils and irises and sclera and all that good stuff about eyes were back, but it was as if something was shading them.

She switched it back on.

He came alive with a jolt, jerked a few times, made a few odd blip noises, and then fell over sideways.

Esther gasped. "Tres!" She hurried to help him, but he managed to sit up on his own.

"Reboot successful," he said, half in that terrible, un-Tres-like voice and half in his own pleasant, deep one. "Sister Esther Blanchett?"

She was so overjoyed that she hugged him. _Tightly. _And he fell over backwards, her still splayed over him, arms around his neck and face in his chest that was too warm for an android and almost straddling him, but who _cares, _because she didn't mess him up any more than he already was.

"Father Tres, I thought I killed you!"

"Negative. I am a machine. Machines can not be—"

"Fine, I thought I _broke _you, then!"

His hands came to her waist as if he wasn't sure what to do. Push her off or hug her back, Esther could see him thinking.

Well, not really. But it was a fun thought to entertain.

"I plugged something in back there," she said, muffled as her face was still pressed against him. "I'm so glad I didn't mess up your internal…stuff."

"I was—"

A knock on the door, and then in came the nun. Her speech started out happy, and then it turned into something like scolding, though Esther couldn't be too sure.

Either way, Tres was lifting her off of him and setting her aside faster than she could register. He closed the back of his head in a motion that made it seem as though he was only smoothing down his hair. "Es tut mir leit; Ich verließ," he said, and Esther translated this into something close to "Please don't poke me in the chest and kick my pregnant wife out; I'm very sorry."

He stood and left without another word.

The nun started at Esther in disdain for a moment before shutting the door behind her.

Esther listened until the click of her boots was completely gone before wandering out, taking off at a full sprint to catch her newly anointed "husband" before he managed to get out of the church.

She caught Tres just as he was walking out the large front doors.

"Tres!" she whisper-shouted and he stopped, turning toward her.

She came to a halt close enough in front of him that the top of her head brushed his waist when she leaned over to pant and grasp her knees.

"Where are you going?"

"Outside," he said. "I will scan the area and gather as much information as I can."

She looked up at him, eyebrows upturned. "A—are you sure? I'm sure you can sneak back in, and—"

He did something slightly out of character. He put a hand to the top of her head. "Rest, Sister Esther Blanchett."

She stared at him. "…Right. Humans need rest."

"Positive."

She watched him leave before returning to her designated quarters.

She had trouble falling asleep that night.

Top of Form

Bottom of Form


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